


Here

by indiefangirl



Category: Girls (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Injured Rey, One Shot, Protective Kylo Ren, set after tlj
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 06:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indiefangirl/pseuds/indiefangirl
Summary: A little one shot based off the scene from the Season 2 finale of Girls, where Adam saves Hannah (link: https://youtu.be/MEcI0rD_SyM). The similarities between their relationships, and of course FaceTime and the Force Bond, made it too tempting not to write. I tried to work in as much of the original dialouge and action as possible :)Basically, the Force Bond reopens when Rey is injured during an attack on the Resistance base, sending Kylo on a race against time to save her.





	Here

    It’s like that moment right before a firework goes off, and you can feel the tension in the air, as if every being, every molecule, seems to freeze in place. It reminds him of when his mother used to close his eyes in the middle of the cramped streets of Hanna City, right before the first firework exploded across the sky in a stream of color and light, signalling the beginning of Life Day celebrations. She would whisper gently in his ear, showing him how to reach out and feel the spark igniting, feel the way everything around seemed to shift and tense in preparation. That’s the only way Kylo can describe how it feels when she appears.

  
      He’s in the middle of training, his sweat soaked t-shirt ripped off long ago in an attempt to cool down. With bared teeth, he kicks and twirls and swings, yelling out every single foul word he’s ever heard of. Today, Kylo is letting anger guide him, allowing pure rage to guide his every attack. Surrounded by an army of plastic enemies, he’s just about to strike the nearest one down, his fiery red lightsaber poised to kill when suddenly the invisible line between them is pulled taunt, snapping into place.

  
    And then she’s in front of him, just like a firework bursting across a pitch black sky, nearly blinding him with her sheer light. _Rey_.

  
    For a moment, he can’t find the words to speak, can’t find the air to breathe  
It’s been months since that day on Crait, when they last held each other’s gaze: him, lost and weak and broken, and her, strong and fearless and certain. When she closed that door on him, she shut herself off to every part of him. Kylo Ren and Ben Solo. With the bond closed, he had been left alone, more completely alone than he ever thought possible.

    Only in dreams. Only in dreams could he see those hazel eyes, those fierce lips. Only in dreams could she haunt him.

  
    But now, those eyes are on him, impossibly wide with something in between shock and fear.

    “Rey?” He finally breathes, his voice coming out in a hesitant whisper.

  
    She is entirely different, but somehow exactly the same. Her hair has grown longer, falling in loose curls past her shoulders, and there’s something about the way she holds herself that’s more mature, more self assured. But that same constellation of freckles dot her nose and cheeks, and her lips are parted with surprise in the same way they were when they had touched hands so long ago. Beautiful in the most raw and pure way.

    He wonders how he looks to her: has he changed? With his chest heaving from his intense training session, his hair wild with sweat and falling over his eyes, does she see the monster or the man?

    He has just enough sense to extinguish his lightsaber when suddenly he feels it: sheer, excruciating pain, blooming from his abdomen. It’s so raw, so all consuming that it knocks the breath out of him. Collapsing to the ground, his hands fumble for the source of his agony, clawing desperately at his chest for the blaster wound. It was the only possible thing that—

    But there’s nothing there, just the pale, smooth expanse of his skin. And that’s when he realizes this pain, this fierce, violent pain...it’s not his own.

    His right hand finds the cool surface of the floor, and with all of his strength he manages to push himself off the ground. He has felt her happiness before, her loneliness, her longing, but never her pain. _Her_ pain.

    Taking a deep breath, his eyes carefully drift back to the space on the concrete floor where she had just been, mentally preparing himself for what is to come. This time he sees her, not like the snippets that he’d received before through the bond. He _really_ sees her.

    Crumpled against a concrete, bullet ridden wall, she looks almost doll-like, small and fragile. Her two hands are folded together over her chest, red seeping out over her small tanned fingers. With each shaky breath, more red gushes out, a sort of grotesque river of blood that pools by her hips and stains the grey of her tunic. Still, she desperately pushes down on the wound, her lips pulled back fiercely with the strength it takes her. A loud boom echoes behind her, perhaps an explosion, and she curls further into herself, whimpering softly.

    It’s almost too much for him to process, and so he stumbles towards her, his mind shifting into autopilot. “Rey,” he repeats, this time louder and stronger and full of sheer desperation. How is he supposed to hate her, to want to kill her, when she looks like that? How is he supposed to fight that primal urge to protect her, to save her, to want to be with her?

    Her hazel eyes glance up at him, filling with sudden strength. “Go. Away,” she grits out through bared teeth, and then looks back down, as if he’d disappear just like that.

    “Hey!” He yells, his voice turning from desperation to anger. There’s no time for their stupid banter, not right now. He doesn’t care how much she hates him, or his promise to despise her, to destroy her. Not right now. Not when she’s hurt. “What’s going on?” It’s admittedly more of a command than a question.

    Sighing, Rey finally looks back up at him. “Nothing much, you?” Despite the shakiness in her voice, she manages to let out a bitter laugh, grimacing a bit at the shock of pain it causes her.

    Instead of responding, he ignores her sad attempt at a joke entirely, instead keeping his eyes glued to hers in a way he hopes says _I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s happening._

    “Look, I didn’t mean for the bond to open.” Rey straightens up carefully, a lone piece of hair falling over her face. She almost sounds like the girl from before he ruined everything. “I didn’t mean you to appear. I just didn’t have the strength to…” She stops herself, her words suddenly taking on a harder edge. “No. I don’t need to explain myself to you. And you know damn well what’s happening!”

    His foot carries him an involuntary step back as he tries to process her words.“What—”

    But she cuts him off, her eyes darkening. “After all, it was your soldiers who did this,” she pauses, lips pulled back in a snarl, “Supreme Leader.”

    And then he’s pulled into her memories, the world around him crumbling and rebuilding into her own. He’s sprinting across what looks like the ruins of a Resistance base, dodging blaster shots and explosions, his feet carrying him through bodies of Resistance members: friends, _family_. _They’re taking everything I love, everything I have left, away from me_ , he thinks. With a scream, he throws the nearest stormtrooper into a wall with the Force like a heap of plastic, relishing in the way the body cracks as it makes contact. Then, spinning around in a flurry of power and pure rage, he impales another stormtrooper, watching the fierce blue of his lightsaber burn through the white plastic of it’s armor.

    But he’s distracted, he’s not paying attention, and all of the sudden he’s collapsing, falling to the ground, his whole world becoming pain. With a last burst of strength, he manages to snap the neck of the stormtrooper who shot him. Time seems to slow down, and amidst the screams and the death, he drags himself across the floor, eventually reaching a small storage room, slamming the door shut with the Force. Emotions flow through him, almost too fast to process. _Weak. Scared. Alon_ e. But one thing dominates his mind more than the rest. _Hatred_. For the First Order. And for the monster, Kylo Ren.

    And just like that, he’s ripped back out of her memories, back to the floor of the training room. His thoughts race at an impossible speed. How? How could that have happened? He never ordered an attack on a Resistance base, and if he had, despite everything...he knows he wouldn’t have had the strength to order her death. He would’ve gone himself, a weak fool, to ensure her safety.

    Hux, it had to have been Hux. He must’ve ordered the attack behind his back, that slimy piece of traitorous—

    No, that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Only Rey.

    “You need to tell me where you are,” he takes a step forward, the pain is his chest mellowing to a throb. “Right now.”

  
    She scoffs, her eyebrows lifting up in disbelief. “What, so you can finish the job?” Another explosion ripples through the small room, and a startled noise escapes her lips. For a moment, he can tell how terrified she is. But it’s only a split second, and then her face becomes a cold, unfeeling mask.

  
    “Rey, we don’t have time for this,” he kneels next to her, cautiously, like trying to approach a wild animal. “You know I didn’t order this attack. You know I would never hurt you.”

    It doesn’t take words for him to know that deep down, she believes him. Her eyes turn glassy with the promise of tears, and biting her lips, she quickly blinks them away. “I...I can handle this,” her voice is hoarse, but still full of strength: the voice of a child pretending they’re not scared.

    Without him telling it to, his hand finds hers, cold and blood stained. That same electricity flows through him, just like it did in the hut on Ach-To all those nights ago, but this time he doesn’t shy away from it. He only holds on tighter. “Rey, I can see you.” A whisper of a sad smile plays on his lips. “You can’t handle this one by yourself.”

    And this is when she finally breaks. “I feel like I’m unravelling, Ben,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. Tears stream down her cheeks, her breath coming out in short bursts. “I’m really...I’m really scared.” Gripping on to his hand so tight he’s sure it’ll leave bruises, she looks up at him desperately.

    “Just tell me where you are,” is all he says. That’s all he needs to know.

    Taking a shaky breath, she glances down at their intertwined hands, and then back up at him. She’s too tired, too weak, to fight anymore. “Ebromia Nine,” she whispers. “In the Straorus System.”

    He nods once. The _Finalizer_ is already in the Staorus System, so if he broke a couple (well maybe more than a couple) rules of flying, he could get there in time. “Stay where you are.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, disregarding how it breaks every single promise he made to himself. “I’m coming to you.”

  
    Carefully placing her hand back on the wound, Kylo quickly stands up, taking one last look at Rey. She nods quietly, the Force saying everything they need to say without a single word. And then he’s sprinting out of the room without another thought, flying through the black halls of the First Order battleship, dodging stormtroopers and droids and officers. Not for a second does he questions how insane he must look, racing shirtless across the _Finalizer_ without any justification.

    A lone stormtrooper, probably newly stationed on the ship, tries to stop him. Stepping into his path, he adjusts his hold on his blaster nervously. “Supreme Leader, can I—”

    But he doesn’t get another word in, because he’s already flying through the air, slamming into the nearest wall with enough force to knock him out. Kylo never even stops, sprinting past the unconscious body and into the main hanger. His new fighter awaits him, perched on the left side of the hanger like a bird ready to take flight.

    Taking the steps three at a time, he flies down a metal staircase, finally reaching his ship. As he hops in, he notices that Rey’s appeared in the co-pilot seat, her hair fanned out across the black leather. She catches his gaze, her chest heaving up and down with each shallow breath.

    “Keep looking at me,” he whispers as he starts up the engine, strapping himself into the pilot’s seat. “Don’t move, okay?”

    Biting her lip, she nods softly, but he can’t help but notice how pale her skin has become, how her hands have begun shaking. He knows that he won’t get there in time, even if he pulled top speeds in his fighter. But maybe, just maybe…he was too close to the planet to make a hyperspace jump, unless if he was going at lightspeed from the hanger all the way to his landing approach. It would have to be instantaneous, and precise, for pieces of him to not end up scattered across five different systems.

    In that case, he would be breaking just about _all_ the rules of flying.

    It’s a ridiculous idea, a stunt his father probably pulled at some point, but his fingers have already found the hyperdrive switch. He is his father’s son after all. Maybe he’ll get lucky as well.

     “You really don’t have to do this,” Rey whispers frantically, realizing what he’s about to do. She reaches out, trying to grab his hand, but it’s already too late, because he’s pulling the switch, sending the tiny fighter hurtling through hyperspace.

    The dark hanger around them is replaced by an all too bright, flashing blue tunnel, and Kylo’s thrown back into the pilot’s seat hard enough to make him grunt. He has to fight against gravity to push himself back up again, his hand reaching out desperately for the control panel. Almost immediately, his fingers find that same switch, yanking on it desperately. The fighter shudders, and then the snowy white expanse of a planet unfolds in front of him, mountains and forests of evergreen trees filling up the cockpit window.

    But it’s all too close, _way_ too close. And the fighter is hurtling straight towards it.

    “Ben!” Rey screams somewhere in the distance, but he barely hears it, too focused on pulling up on the thruster with everything he has. For a split second, the ship doesn’t respond at all, and he’s sure that after everything, this is how he’ll go out: in a ball of fiery destruction, all for some scavenger girl who will always despise him. And the surprising thing is...he’s okay with it. Maybe if his only truly selfless act is his last one, somehow it might make his life worth _something_.

    But then the fighter suddenly jerks upward, just barely grazing the tips of the tall trees below. Clearing the forest entirely, the ship quickly starts picking up altitude, settling at a safe distance above the mountains below. A stupid grin bursts across his face, and he can’t help but let out a shaky laugh. _Alive. Okay_. Glancing over at Rey, he takes in her tears of relief and weak smile. Although she’s happy now, he can tell that if they both get through this alive, she’ll have some words for him about this.

  
    Whipping across the icy landscape, he quickly spots what looks to be the Resistance base: a tall, concrete structure built into the side of a mountain. A gaping hole sits in the middle of the entrance, probably caused by the blast of a siege canon. Landing just outside of firing range, the ship touches down in the crook of a mountain, hidden away from both the Resistance and the First Order.

    Kylo quickly unbuckles himself from the pilot seat, grabbing the hilt of his saber from where he had stored it in the cockpit. His eyes drift over to Rey, still slumped over in the co-pilot’s seat. A thin sheet of cold sweat covers her now ghostly pale skin, soaking into her tunic and mixing with the blood from her wound. She looks like death, and words can’t express how scared that makes him.

    Catching his worried gaze, she takes his hand in one of her own. “Please,” she whispers hoarsely, “don’t worry about me.”

    Despite the strength in her eyes, he can’t help but notice how cold her hands are, and it does nothing to calm him down. “Hold on,” is all he manages to choke out, and then he bursts out of the cockpit and into the cold, icy world outside.

    Step after hurried step, his boots sink into the moist snow, soaking his dark pants. It’s now that he’s definitely, seriously regretting the whole shirtless thing. But despite the cold, he sprints across the barren field between him and the Resistance base, keeping his eyes peeled for Resistance and First Order forces alike. But there’s not a sound, besides that of his own labored breath and the bitter wind howling through the mountains.

    As he gets closer, though, the sounds of war: gun fire, explosions, screaming, begin to echo through his ears. He reaches the entrance of the base in minutes, jumping through the blaster hole and into the smokey war-torn entryway. Immediately, blaster shots rain down on him, and igniting his fiery red lightsaber, he parries as many as he can, somersaulting across the hall. Now with a little cover, Kylo is able to spot his assailants: Resistance fighters, three of them, firing from behind a makeshift barricade.

    She’ll hate him for what he’s about to do, but there’s no other choice. They’re standing between him and saving her.

    Closing his eyes, he reaches out to the Force, feeling out the life signatures of each of the fighters. In a single breath, he snaps the neck of the one furthest to the front and the one with the blaster rifle, throwing the unarmed one against a nearby wall just hard enough to knock him out. _At least I didn’t kill all of them_ , he thinks to himself.

     Bounding across the hallway, illuminated only by the pocket of light coming from outside, he follows her Force presence—weak, but definitely still there—to a metal door on his right. In the distance, he can hear the sounds of chaotic fighting, most likely First Order troops crushing what’s left of the Resistance forces. But that means he doesn’t have much time, not if he wants to get Rey out of here without being seen.

    Grabbing onto the cool handle, he pushes against the door, but it won’t budge, groaning only slightly under his weight. Closing his eyes, he tries to feel out the lock on the door with the Force, like he use to do as a child, but he can’t find it and there’s not enough time and she’s on the other side, fading away, and—

    “Rey, open the door!” He yells desperately, banging on the metal with the flat of his hand. “Open the fucking door!”

    “I...I can’t.” He finally hears her muffled voice from the other side of the door, small and childlike, each word punctuated by a shallow breath. “Ben, I—I’m scared.”

    No. No, she was not gonna die on the other side of that door when he was _this_ close.

    His long legs take him a few steps back, and then with a deep breath, he rushes headlong into the door with everything he has. Skin connects with metal, his chest taking most of the impact, and the door is bursting open, revealing the tiny storage room inside.

    Still heaving, he searches the room until his eyes finally find her. _Rey_.

    Turned away from him, she’s curled into herself, the pool of blood beneath her stretching to her toes. Carefully, he steps towards her, mentally preparing himself for what he’ll see, and crouches next to her head. But the sight of her still nearly takes his breath away. She’s so small, so fragile, so everything that she’s not suppose to be. Her hands are still folded over her wound, but there’s no strength left in them, and her eyes...the fire behind them has died. Only fear is left now, fear and loneliness.

    But then she looks up at him, and he swears he sees the faintest of smiles play on her pale, bloodied lips. “You’re here,” she says hoarsely, her voice barely a whisper.

    “Well I was always here,” he manages to say, swallowing back his urge to cry, to scream, to burn this whole fucking base down.

    Instead, he careful scoops her off the floor, getting one strong arm underneath her legs and the other behind her neck. For a moment, they stay like that, her curled into him like she was made to be held by his arms, and him breathing her in, trying to comprehend the fact that she’s alive, that he’s holding her. Her arms wrap around his neck, her small fingers tangling in his hair, and she pulls back a little, catching his gaze. His eyes drift down, past her hazel eyes, past the smooth curve of her nose, past the dust of freckles on her cheeks.

    There’s no more words left to be said.

    Slowly, she leans forward, so their lips are only a breath away. With a deep breath, he closes the distance, his lips meeting hers. And then he’s drowning, drowning in her. And he’s no longer thinking or breathing because he’s kissing _her_. Her lips are rough, chapped from dry dessert days, and she tastes like sunshine and warmth and...like how he’d picture coming home after a long day.

    And for now, it’s enough.

    _Alive.  
_

_Okay._

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
